


Come Back Soon

by Drag0nst0rm



Series: The Lost Ones [1]
Category: NCIS
Genre: Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Kid Fic, death of a child, ghost au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-11
Updated: 2016-08-11
Packaged: 2018-08-08 00:58:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7736857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drag0nst0rm/pseuds/Drag0nst0rm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being left alone at a hotel is bad. Being left alone at a hotel when you're sick is worse, but Tony's not worried. His dad will come back soon. Right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Come Back Soon

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own NCIS.

Coming back to the hotel room to find his dad wasn't there wasn't entirely surprising, but Tony was still disappointed. He'd been hoping -

It didn't matter what he'd been hoping. It was stupid and babyish anyway.

He sneezed, his most impressive one today, and that was sort of saying something. He was still in his swim trunks, so he didn't have any sleeves to wipe his nose on. He stalked over to the bathroom and yanked half the tissues out of the box, irrationally angry.

It wasn't like his dad would have been fussing over him even if he'd been here. The only person who had ever done that was his mom, and even then, it was only when his being sick happened to coincide with one of her good days.

Still, now that Mom was . . . gone . . . maybe Dad would have at least gone out to get him some medicine or something.

Tony flopped onto the bed with his mountain of tissues and turned on the TV. He eventually landed on an old movie channel that was playing _Dracula_.

He remembered watching it with Mom. It had been a little scary, but he'd been younger then, and his dad had been annoyed when he'd caught them watching it.

 _Dracula_ it was, then.

He glanced at the clock as he settled back against the pillows. It was time for supper. That was why he'd come back from the beach. Well, that and this cold he couldn't seem to shake. If his dad wasn't here, he was just going to have to order himself some supper. Dad could get his own when he came back.

He ordered the most expensive things on the room service menu out of spite. Dad had said he would be back by now, and Tony was getting tired of broken promises.

When the food arrived, he started to regret that decision. Maybe he'd like lobster when he was older, but right now he was craving some pizza.

He picked at his food as he watched the movie. He wasn't very hungry anyway. And when had it gotten so hot in here?

He should go turn up the air conditioning, but the unit was by the window.

He eyed the dark window warily. It eyed him right back.

Tony left the light on and decided to deal with the heat.

 _Dracula_ was a bit scarier when you were watching it on your own. Just a bit.

He wiped the sweat off his forehead, annoyed with himself, and threw another tissue down on the floor. He'd deal with it in the morning. When his dad came back.

His dad _was_ coming back, right?

Of course he was. He was just late.

Really, really late.

Tony sneezed.

 

Tony woke up at noon feeling fuzzy headed and with so much congestion he could barely breathe.

It was really hot.

He forced himself to get up and fiddle with the air conditioning. It was already pretty cool according to the monitor. Huh. He changed it anyway.

It was only then that he happened to glance at his dad's bed. It was empty.

He must have come back late last night and left early this morning. Right?

Except nothing in the room was disturbed.

Had something happened to his dad?

He shoved the thought away. His dad was probably out on the beach somewhere. Tony could go find him anytime he chose.

He just didn't choose to right now. Mainly because he felt like death warmed over.

He ordered himself a pizza and settled down to watch another movie. His dad would have to come back eventually.

The knock when the pizza came startled him out of a doze. He sniffed miserably and went to go get the pizza.

He remembered his mom putting a wet cloth on his head once. Maybe that would help.

He ran some cold water over a washcloth and sat back down on the bed. It did feel pretty good. Honestly, was that air conditioner broken or what?

He only ate half the pizza, but that was all right. It would save him the trouble of calling for dinner.

 

Tony ached everywhere. "Mom?" he called blearily.

But Mom was gone. Not even a ghost left now. Dad said she hadn't loved them enough to stay, but Dad had been drunk when he'd said that, and Mom had always said that Sr. never meant what he said when he was drunk.

"Dad?" he tried.

Except Dad wasn't here either. It was just him and the people on the TV.

Tony liked the people on the TV. They came and went as he pleased, not the other way around.

He was shivering instead of sweating now, so he burrowed under the sheets and reached weakly for another tissue.

He hoped his dad got back soon. He really didn't feel so good.

 

His mom was singing to him. That was nice. He liked it when she sang to him.

The people on the TV were talking to him too. He couldn't quite make out what they were saying, but he wished they'd go get him some ice or something.

Something heavy was laying on top of him. He tried to push it off, but his arms just flopped. Why didn't his mom get it?

Then the people on the TV explained it was for the show, so that was okay.

Wait a minute. That didn't make sense. He tried to sit up. It was just the comforter. Where had that come from?

He collapsed back against the pillow. He should call someone. Could you call room service if you were sick?

He didn't know, and he was too tired to figure it out. Maybe he could do that later. He should just sleep it off. He was a DiNozzo, after all. DiNozzo's were strong. He would shake it in no time.

That settled, he went back to sleep.

 

It was hot and cold and everything hurt.

He tried to call for his dad, but he couldn't quite get the words out, and it probably wouldn't have mattered anyway.

 

Anthony DiNozzo Sr. hurried to his hotel room. Leaving Junior alone for that long had been unfortunate, but he could hardly have told Eliza that he couldn't come with her to the resort because his kid was waiting. Not when the widow had been that rich and that lovely. Junior was an independent kid. He'd probably enjoyed himself.

He slid the key card in and walked in.

What was that smell? Had the bathroom backed up?

Then he saw Tony bundled under the covers and the wetness on the sheets. He sighed and wrinkled his nose. For crying out loud, Junior was what, ten now? Eleven? He was too old for this sort of mess.

"Junior?" he called in annoyance.

Tony didn't answer. He walked over and prodded Tony's shoulder, careful not to touch the disgusting sheets.

Tony was surprisingly stiff. And cold.

"Junior?"

He could have sworn he heard something and he felt a moment of hope. "Junior?"

Tony wasn't breathing.

Stiff. Cold. He hadn't been breathing for a while.

Senior stumbled back and sat on the other bed.

He was all alone.

His mind went blank for a few minutes.

Think. He had to think.

Junior'd been sick. More sick than he'd realized, evidently.

He wasn't going to get infected, was he?

No, of course not. It had just been a cold anyway, maybe the flu. It shouldn't have been dangerous.

It wasn't his fault, obviously. But . . . But not everyone would see it that way. He'd have to do something.

Report him missing, maybe. He'd have to be careful when and how, but he could work with missing.

Except that meant first he'd have to deal with this.

No one payed much attention to the man rolling his suitcase out into the garden. It was late enough that anyone out and about was either exhausted or drunk. Probably both.

There weren't any cameras in this part of the garden, and the dirt was loose.

As much as he hated manual labor, there wasn't anything else for it.

Senior got to work.

He tried not to think too hard about what he was doing.

It mostly worked.

Mostly.

As for the rest, well, that was what the alcohol was for.

 

Tony almost chased after his dad when he walked away, but no. This wasn't his fault. His dad could be the one to come apologize this time.

Tony sat down on the garden bench and stared after his dad stubbornly. He determinedly didn't look at the hastily smoothed over dirt nearby.

His dad would come back. Tony just had to wait for him. He'd come back to the room after all, just a little later than Tony would have liked. He'd come back here too, and Tony would be right here, ready to meet him. He'd come back, and he'd be so sorry that he hadn't been there and that he'd been ignoring Tony these past few hours that he'd be the perfect dad ever after. It'd all be worth it then.

He just had to wait.

Even if it was taking a little longer than he'd expected.


End file.
